


One Night In Halamshiral

by Ezzy_Pie



Series: Valindra/Solas Oneshots [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angsty Solas, Dark Solas, Dom Solas, Dread Wolf, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Implied past Anduril/Fen'Harel, Morning After Regret, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Solas let himself go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-09 11:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4347893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ezzy_Pie/pseuds/Ezzy_Pie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas feels a little too at home at the Winter Palace, the one and only time he truly lets himself go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "I do adore the heady blend of power, intrigue, danger, and sex that permeates these events" 
> 
> The Dread Wolf gets a little nostalgic for the good old days of Arlathan, and after a few drinks, kinda forgets all about "Solas"
> 
> Hope you like...

Valindra leaned over the balcony, inhaling the crisp night air, looking down over the courtyard where palace attendants were clearing out bodies and scrubbing blood from the cobbled path. Solas had left after their dance, allowing her time to process the events of the night. She smiled at the fresh memory of him twirling her around the balcony, and it struck her, not for the first time that night, how easily he fit in at the Winter Palace, strange for a man who claimed to have wandered alone in the wilderness for most of his life. 

A ragged sigh escaped her. The entire night would have been easier had she been clothed in her battle raiment and not the ridiculous red and gold shemlen dress Josephine had insisted she wear. The dress had little to no sleeves, save for a scrap of red velvet that hung off her bare shoulders. It was cut scandalously low across her breasts, which were squeezed and pushed upwards inside the corset that it was a miracle she had not fallen out of the thing. 

Her waist was cinched so tight she could scarcely breathe, making it nigh on impossible to wield her staff, not to mention the layers of ruffled skirts that only succeeded in getting her knocked on her arse several times, causing her to have to untangle herself from her skirts whilst her companions battled their way through the palace. She could still hear Dorians cheery laughter in her ear. 

Her eyes fell to the dark patches of blood marking the gown, her fingers smoothing down the ruffles, eyes alighting on the crusted blood drying beneath her nails. She must look a sight. Briefly she attempted to straighten her coiffured hair, fighting the urge to tear out the pins.

Valindra wandered back inside, leaning against a marbled column, half hidden in the shadows, hoping against hope she was done with The Game for the evening. She watched the nobles twirl around the dance floor, as though their Empress had not been murdered scant an hour before, the blood on her own clothes having barely dried.

A derisive snort escaped her; she would never understand humans, especially the Orlesian’s. No matter how they tried to groom her to be one of them, no matter how high they tried to elevate her, she would not forget who and where she came from. She owed it to her clan’s memory.

She would be their puppet only as long as Corypheus lived. 

“You don't approve?" The soft cadence of Solas’s voice came from behind, setting her instantly as ease as he handed her a glass of sparkling champagne. She took the proffered glass, bringing the crisp liquid to her lips, gulping the champagne in one swig. Solas raised a brow, a mischievous smirk spreading across his lips. He leaned low, his warm breath fanning her cheeks.

"That was very unladylike, vhenan, what would our Ambassador say?" A shiver ran up her spine as he nipped the tip of her ear and stepped behind her, hidden mostly in shadow, resting his hands on her hips. What did she care if she was being proper, she had done as she was told, acted their puppet, allowed their shemlen lords to manhandle her all evening, ogling her like she was some exotic prize to be won, helping the very people who stole her peoples ancestral lands. 

She couldn’t wait to be gone from this place. 

“I won't tell Josie it you won't," she leaned into him as his arms wrapped about her waist, shuddering as he ran his hot, wet tongue along the shell of her ear, drawing the tip between his teeth. 

"That is hardly appropriate behaviour from my manservant,” she chided, hoping he wouldn't take offence at her joke. He hummed behind her, prying the glass from her fingers and setting it aside. He pressed her forward and leaned over her, her elbows splaying across the balustrade, careful to keep himself hidden in the shadows. They still had their parts to play. God’s forbid the Lady Inquisitor be seen consorting with her serving man, Josephine would kill her.

“And you are hardly a lady, vhenan" he whispered against her ear, low and menacing, heat flaring in her belly, and she could feel herself growing wet from the timbre of his voice alone. His hands crept beneath her skirts, his long fingers ghosting along her quivering thighs, his fingers biting into her flesh as he pulled her hard against him, moaning low in her throat. 

"Would you act the Dalish savage right here in the Orleasian court, the Empress barely cold in her grave." Solas nipped gently at the back of her neck, as his hands crept higher, his deft fingers catching in the strings of her smalls, and yanking them away, letting them fall to the floor beneath her skirts. He eyes widened and Solas laughed at her shocked gasp.

What had gotten into him? Was he drunk? How much champagne had he imbibed? Where was the reserved and carefully controlled scholar who made her wait for nearly two months after their fade kiss to decide to be with her, and almost a full year before he made love to her for the first time. The grim fatalist had vanished, and this new self-assured, cocky side of him had emerged, at the Winter Palace of all places.

I do adore the heady blend of power, intrigue, danger, and sex that permeates these events. 

His earlier words came back to her as he slipped a finger inside her, caught off guard, Valindra gasped loudly, clasping her hand over her mouth, feigning a yawn as he slipped in a second digit. His hand bit into her thigh as the other gently stroked her inner walls. She gripped the railing and couldn't help but grind herself against his fingers. He laughed darkly into her shoulder as she rocked against him. It wasn't enough, and she growled in frustration, bucking against the exquisite pleasure his expert fingers wrought within her, stoking the flames of her burning desire. 

"What’s wrong vhenan? Is your manservant not performing his duties?" He pulled his fingers from her and she whimpered in frustration.

“What game are you playing Solas?" Valindra tried to turn in his arms, but he pushed harder, pinning her against the railing.

“I play no game, vhenan, I only wish to claim what is mine.” His fingers dug painfully into her thigh, his cheek pressed hard against hers.

“You on the other hand played The Game like a master tonight.” His hands moved from beneath her skirts to move behind her, one hand lifting her skirts…

She glanced over her shoulder to see him unbuckling his belt and untying the laces of his breeches. He wouldn’t! Not here in a ballroom full of Orlesian nobles! Panic and excitement lanced through her simultaneously, warring with each other, even as her traitorous body grew wet in anticipation.

“Solas!”

“Turn around!” he snapped, a hardness creeping into his voice when he spoke, a cold anger barely contained. 

“You think I like seeing those shems grope and drool over you? Pawing at you, touching you, whispering shemlen filth against your delicate ear. Wanting what they have no right to want, what is mine alone to claim, all while I play the flat eared servant?” Valindra was positively dripping with want, her whole body quivering at his words.

Mine. 

Solas had never spoken so possessively of her before, never appeared remotely jealous, he was always so cool and restrained. It thrilled her to the very core.

“Solas…” Her words caught in her throat as his cock surged into her, burying himself to the hilt, the shock of his entry silencing her, the delicious burn filling and stretching her. She bit down on her lip to stop from crying out, closing her eyes against the now familiar feel of him inside her.

“What would your advisors say if they knew you were letting your flat eared lover fuck you before half the nobility of Orlais?” His voice was low, a seductive whisper against her cheek. He drew out only a fraction before pushing back into her, biting back his own groan.

“What would your Commander say?” he turned her gaze to where Cullen was surrounded by a gaggle of women not ten meters away. “The man looks at you with barely concealed lust every time he sees you.”

Valindra couldn’t speak; it was taking everything she had not to cry out as he plunged into her, keeping a steady rhythm as he fucked her silently from the shadows. She bit down hard on her own lip, trying to stifle the moans that threatened to spill forth. One of his hands slid beneath her skirts, to circle her clit, pressure mounting, burning, building to dizzying heights as she tried to discreetly grind herself back against his cock, swaying her hips in time to the Orleasian waltz. 

He increased his pace, short, sharp and deep, he fell silent save for stifled grunts against her neck, his hot breath fanning across her shoulders. Valindra fought to restrain the electricity flowing through her veins, power mounting, swelling, it was too much, becoming impossible to contain. She grasped behind, digging her nails into Solas hips, releasing, her mana rushing through them both, sending them hurtling towards their peak. 

Their breath came in hard gasps, Valindra tasting blood as she exploded around his cock, her head fell forward and her mouth open in a silent cry as her body trembled. Solas pulsated deep within her as he clutched her too him, biting down on her shoulder to silence himself.

They were both panting, chests heaving, when he stepped away, his seed warm and sticky against her thighs, she watched a mischievous grin cross his lips, eyes dark with lust.

“I believe we have given Orlais enough of a show this evening, shall we take this somewhere more private?

Scooping up her ruined smalls her stuffed them into his pocket with a boyish grin that made him look years younger, before taking her hand and dragging her down the hall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dread Wolf comes out to play. 
> 
> Serious Smut ahead.
> 
> Rough sex, if its not your thing, turn back now.

They burst through the doors to her chambers, giggling and laughing, Solas grasping her face between his palms, mouth slanting across hers, biting down on her lower lip, drawing it between his teeth, the taste of wine heavy on his tongue. 

He kicked the door closed behind them, spinning her roughly and slamming her against it, knocking the breath from her lungs. His hands in her hair as he kissed her savagely, devouring her like a man starved, his hands knotting painfully in her hair.

He tore his lips from her, a wicked grin spread across her ruby lips as he yanked her head back, hands twisting in her silver hair, exposing the smooth column of her throat. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and bringing his lips to the hollow at the base of her exposed throat, he sucked at the tender flesh before running his wet tongue up the full length of her throat and face, searing a scorching trail across her flesh. His mouth claimed hers once more, his tongue delving into the depths of hers, their tongues fighting for dominance. Her hands flew to clasp the base of his skull, pulling him to her, moaning into his mouth as something primal shot through her, igniting white hot fire in her belly.

His hands left her hair, sliding firmly down her throat, biting into the soft flesh of her shoulders. His lips moved to the sensitive point of her ear, drawing the tip between his teeth, suckling hard and her body melted against him. His hands tugged at the velvet straps at her shoulders, Valindra couldn’t help but laugh when the straps snapped between his fingers, his brow darkening as he stared at the strips of fabric in his hands. The crimson bodice held fast, refusing to budge.

She whined when Solas stepped back, his hands and mouth leaving her a quivering mess, slumped against the door. Her gaze met his, there was a storm brewing in his blue-grey irises, dark and smouldering with unbridled lust. There was something predatory in the was his gazed raked over her, and Valindra couldn't help but feel like prey, her heart skipped a beat as he stalked toward her, his steely eyes narrowed, pinning her to the spot. 

Solas stopped short of her, towering above her as she looked up at him, waiting, wanting, her belly doing flips under intense his scrutiny. He seized the front of her dress abruptly and pulled her away from the door, gasping as she collided with the hardness of his chest. A mischievous smirk tugged at his lips as he gripped fabric of her bodice between his fingers. She gasped in astonishment when he tore at the red velvet, splitting it down the front in one singular tear, laces snapping, eyelets popping, the carefully tailored garment was torn asunder.

His smirk broadened as she stood gawking, slack jawed, down at the shredded garment dangling from her blushing body. Never in her wildest fantasies would Valindra have envisioned Solas behaving as he was tonight, he was like a different man. He was always so gentle with her, so restrained in his lovemaking. Creators, it had taken the man almost a year to do more than kiss her, and here he was shredding the clothes from her body, after having fucked her in front of half of Orlais and being anything but gentle about it.

And she loved every minute of it. 

Solas stepped forward, jerking what remained of the dress from her shoulders, letting the red and gold ruffles fall the floor, pooling at her feet. 

"Better," he grunted, his stormy gaze drinking in the sight of her. She stood before him, silver-white hair falling in disarray about her naked shoulders, in nothing but her corset, and foot wraps, she refused to wear the ridicules heels Josephine had presented her with. Her small clothes were still stuffed in Solas pocket from their earlier encounter. Her chest was heaving and she felt the warm flush upon her cheeks, wet heat slick against her thighs, and the stickiness of Solas’s seed still tacky against her skin.

He stepped toward her again, his hands grasping her breasts and squeezing through the tightly cinched corset, his teeth pressing hard, biting kisses across the tops if her breasts, his teeth leaving reddened impressions on her skin, one hand moved to clasp the back of her neck tightly, his lips crashing down upon hers, swollen and tender from his kisses. 

His other hand left her breast, and she heard the metal buckle of his belt hit the floor, the sound setting her body aflame with red hot desire. Her excitement mounted and she sighed and moaned against him, revelling in the sounds of his grunts and groans and then both hands were back in her hair, fisting tightly in the silvery curls.

"On your knees" he snarled, a shiver of pleasure spiking through her as he shoved her roughly to the floor, his hands twisting so tightly in her hair that she cried out against the pain and he loosened his hold. 

She dragged his breeches to his knees and purred when she was presented with his hard, erect cock, the tip glistening with pre-cum, and she was still in awe of his size. 

He moaned obscenely as she ran her small tongue up the length of him, her tongue flicking across the tip, the salty taste of him in her mouth. Peering up at him from her knees, she closed her mouth around his length.

***

His eyes closed as he moaned, head lolling back, his mouth falling open, gasping as she flicked her tongue across the tip of his cock. A growl passed his lips as he thrust his hips slightly and she struggled to take him whole. 

He gazed down upon the glorious sight before him, Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf. Valindra, The Inquisitor, scion of her people, was on her knees before him, his hands fisted tightly in her hair, silver tresses cascading about her bare shoulders as he fucked her beautiful mouth. It truly was a sight to behold, the image seared into his brain.

His true self has been rattling at his cage for so long, holding himself back, but not tonight, tonight "Solas" had no place here. A dark, perverted part of him wondered how she, a Dalish elf, would react if she knew she was sucking the cock of the Dread Wolf himself, her tongue and mouth bringing him untold pleasures.

He smirked darkly, if only she knew.

He drew her off him, not wanting to spend himself so soon; a wet popping sound was heard as he was released from her soft and enchanting lips, jerking her back up to his mouth, tasting himself on her tongue. 

Solas pulled her flush against him, her breasts all but spilling out of her corset as he crushed her to him, his fingers digging brutally into her shoulder blades. 

Her nails scraped across his shaved scalp, sending a sharp thrill through him, her delicate fingers trailing down his neck as she kissed him, drawing his lip between her teeth. He smirked into her mouth, his voice coming hot and heavy in her ear.

"You'll have to do better than that, little halla, if you wish to play." Dragging his fingers down the ties of her tightly cinched corset, he cast a small blast of ice, freezing the lacings and crushing them between his fingertips, the corset sliding to the floor. The petite woman trembled in his arms, gazing up at him, sapphire eyes dark and shining with lust, his vhenan, a mortal, the only woman to have ever truly captured his heart. 

A roguish smirk spread across her lips and she shoved him hard, Solas staggered back a few paces. His heated gaze snapped up, as she advanced on him, pushing him again, this time his legs hit edge of the plush bed and he tumbled backwards. She leaned low, allowing him an eyeful of her breasts as she tugged his breeches from him, before crawling over him, rolling her hips as she straddled him, settling her moist heat atop his blazing lions. 

Gripping his tunic by the collar, she ripped the fabric clean down to his navel, brass buttons scattering across the bed, leaving his amulet where it lay against him. Her hands slid over the lean muscles of his chest, running her tongue up his neck, burning his skin. 

His brows shot up in surprise, before now he had only ever made love to her as Solas, he had never fucked her as Fen’Harel. And it was becoming quite clear to him that he wasn’t the only one with lowered inhibitions this night.

“What, you think the Dalish don't like to play? We are not all prudes Solas, I've played this game before...Dread Wolf...Fen'Harel.”

His eyes flared wide, his hands grasping her hips. Something primal, bestial and wild was ignited inside his chest. Molten desire flooded every inch of him and it was with great restraint that he didn’t just pin her down and fuck her senseless the moment she called him by his true name. 

“Besides, vhenan,” Valindra’s voice was low and sultry, heavy with her own burning passions. “You do have wolfish tendencies do you not?” She grasped the cord that held his wolf jaw amulet lying flush against his chest, winding its length about her fist and pulling him to her, and she actually growled at him, baring her teeth, before running her wet tongue along the shell of his ear. He felt her smile against his cheek when a shiver of pleasure lanced through him and he thrust his hips upwards, delighting in her gasp as his cock brushed against the wet heat of her. 

Valindra pulled him closer still, "You think I do not notice? How much you enjoy taking me from behind? That it is your preference is it not?"

A harsh breath spilled from him, lips curled back in a half snarl as she rolled her hips over his length, smirking at him. 

“To have me down on all fours, or bent over your desk,” she paused to nip at his ear, pressing her naked breasts against his bare chest. “Yours hands gripping my arse as you make love to me over your desk and…”

A bestial growl tore from his lips, grasping her hips, she gave a surprise shriek as he flipped them over, his hands at her throat, pinning her beneath him, and he licked his way up her body, his burning tongue setting her body aflame. 

“What say you little halla? Would you have me make slow, tender love to you, or beg for the Dread Wolf to fuck you?” He whispered against her tender flesh, words like velvet, his teeth biting, and her body sighing and arching, writing and undulating under his touch. One hand held firmly to her throat, his lips and tongue inching closer to her hardened nipples, his free hand travelling downwards to the wet heat between her thighs, teasing but not touching.

He released her throat, drawing his short nails across her tender flesh, stopping at her breasts, the dusky pink nipple hard and erect beneath his fingers, he summoned his magic, pinching and tweaking one rosy tip with frost tipped fingers as his hot, wet lips closed down over the other. She moaned loudly, arching her body off the bed as his teeth bit down gently on the rosy tip, his tongue licking and sucking, biting harder as he palmed and tweaked her other breast. The impassioned gasps and moans were music to her ears, playing her, plucking her strings like an expert harpist, drawing the most delicious and obscenely decadent sounds eliciting from her perfect ruby lips, alternating his attentions until she was keening and whimpering his name.

A whining sound escaped her as his lips and fingers left her. And Solas left a trail of biting marks down the flatness of her belly, his own erection becoming increasingly more painful as his need spiralled wildly through him. 

Nudging her legs apart, he inhaled the musky scent of her, dragging the flat of his tongue across her cunt, circling her clit before sucking, drawing the sensitive nubbin between his lips.

"Fuck...Solas.." she hissed, her hips lurching off the bed, bunching the bedsheets in her fists, as he plunged his tongue inside, he felt the vibrations of her mana swell and skitter across her silken skin. Her sweet nectar, like honey on his lips as he licked and sucked, the name Solas a litany on her lips as her sweetness burst over his tongue, leaving her panting and writhing, still gripping the silken sheets.

Solas sat up, abruptly pulling her to a sitting position, breasts heaving, and her eyes dark and glazed from her orgasm. He pulled her into his lap and she straddled his thighs as he kissed her, his cock twitched as she made a show of licking her in juices from his chin, tracing her tongue across his honeyed lips.

Sweat beaded her brow, dripping down the boughs of Mythal’s branches and a dark, long dormant part of him imagined his own, long erased valaslin branded across her face, a forbidden thrill rippling through him as he nuzzled at the hollow of her throat, sucking the sensitive skin. He conjured the image of her spread beneath him, the twisting lines winding across her brow as he fucked her upon Andruil’s alter, his younger self taking great satisfaction in defiling the huntresses temples.

"Are you ready to submit to the Dread Wolf little halla? Would you have him fuck you or…?" She gripped the side of his face between her palms, kissing his fiercely, her nails grazing the back of his skull. She whispered low in his ear, her voice dripping with want.

“Fuck me…Fen’Harel.”

He hooked his arms beneath her knees, growling savagely at his name upon he lips as he tossed her onto her back, her laughter swirling about him and he flipped her onto her belly, his arm encircling her waist, drawing her up onto all fours. 

He clawed his blunted nails across her back, leaving a reddened trail in his wake. Grasping her arse between his palms, and positioning himself at her entrance, he slammed into her, she squeaked at his hard entry, an animalistic moan escaped him, his whole body shuddering, trembling, his cock sliding deep. 

He stilled for a moment, his hands resting on her hips, revelling in the feel of her surrounding him, enveloping him, pressing in around his cock. He thrust slowly at first, concentrating on not losing himself so soon. He quickened his pace, pumping harder, faster, gripping her hips firmly, mesmerised by her breasts bouncing with each savage thrust.

“Harder,” she cried, grunting harshly as he complied, slamming into her, over and over, sweat pouring off him.

Solas would never fuck her like this; fuck her like the wild thing he truly was. He grasped the back of her neck, pushing her down into the bed, fingers biting into her skin, his other hand gripping her hip as he smashed into her, grunting and snarling harshly, as he pumped furiously into her, fucking her as roughly as the word fuck entailed, drowning in the sounds of flesh, slapping against flesh, her stilted whimpers and groans mingling with his own grunts and snarls as he thrust into her again, and again, and she cried out as he squeezed the back of her neck tightly.

He grasped a fistful of silver hair, and yanked her up to him. He head lolling back on his shoulders, eyes half lidded, and her mouth open and panting. He wrapped arms around her to steady her as he continued his ruthless pace. The air about them crackled, static charge whirling about the room, she was fast approaching her peak, her control fraying. 

He licked the shell of her ear, biting down, and she cried out. 

One hand snaked around her waist, his fingers slipped down her belly, the other sliding up her throat, pinning her to him, his teeth grazing the tender flesh. His fingers circled her clit and she cried out.

"The Dread Wolf has you now, little Halla" Magic sparked at his fingertips, pulsating as he fused his mana with her. 

“Fuck…Solas…” Her hands reached back, grasping the back of his head, her nails digging into his scalp. She came violently, screaming his name, panting, desperate for breath as she shattered around his cock, her insides pulsating, the room exploding with static electricity.

He lurched forward with a bestial snarl, forcing her once more onto her hands and knees as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. Solas grasped her arse, hard and slamming into her, once, twice, and couldn't hold back anymore at the sound of her obscene moan. He came hard, howling and snarling his release, spilling himself deep inside her, his hot seed filling her, both of them slick and damp, sweat gleaning their bodies as he collapse atop her. 

He was still inside her when the fade claimed them both.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas has morning after regret, because whats a Solavellan fic without added angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan wakes up with bruises, but i just want to make sure that its clear that everything that happened in previous chapters WAS consensual. She had rough sex with Solas, which she is fine with, even if he freaks out.

Solas woke with a pounding head, he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut against the morning light streaming through the high arched windows. He massaged his temples against the throbbing pain. How much had he drunk? The night had begun well enough; he had even started off enjoying playing the help, watching the intrigue and scandals unfold without anyone so much as glancing at him skulking in the corners. 

He had sipped his champagne as he watched her schmooze the nobles as though she had played the game her whole life. Solas had grit his teeth when she arrived, little more than a Dalish trophy on Gaspard’s arm. He had watched as the Orleasian nobles had fawned over her, practically bowing and scraping for the Inquisitor’s favour. He also watched as they brushed too closely, whisper who knows what into her pointed ears. Their hands lingering on her waist, hips and backside, brushing across her bare shoulders, even tracing their filthy shemlen paws across the tops of her breasts. Their eyes hardly concealed their lust and she could do little more than wave them off with a laugh and gently pry their hands from her person. 

And Solas had looked on, powerless to do anything about them manhandling his lover in such a way. If they had been in the courts of Arlathan, his younger self would not have stood by while another touched what was his, he had killed for less. But he wasn't that indulgent, foolish young man anymore, and so with every stab of jealousy, every hand laid upon his vhenan, he downed another glass and white knuckled it through the night. The rest of the evening passing in a hazy blur after Gaspard had been named Brialla’s puppet. He had over indulged, attempting to wipe the images from his mind.

A soft sigh sounded against his ear, and he rolled into to the soft, warm body still wrapped about him. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, the ache of his hangover suddenly seemingly unimportant. Solas turned his gaze upon her and gaped in horror, ice clenching his heart. 

Across her neck, shoulders and arms were purplish bruises, in the unmistakable shapes of hands, fingers and teeth.

Solas threw back the covers, revealing more bruises across her hips and teeth marks across her breasts and belly. She startled awake, a lazy smile spreading across her lips as she rubbed at sleep crusted eyes.

He stared in shock, unable to form words. She looked as though she had gone ten rounds of hand to hand with Iron Bull! She followed his gaze to her bruises, and she...laughed?

"Looks like I was well and truly fucked last night...Dread Wolf." She smirked, leaning up onto her knees and reaching for him, silver hair spilling about her shoulders. "I'm a bit sore, but I believe we have some time before Josephine will be knocking on that door."  
His blue-grey eyes snapped up to lock with hers." Why would you call me that?" Her smile fading when she noticed the panic and turmoil swirling in his eyes.

It hit him like a tonne of bricks as the memories of last night came crashing back. The balcony, shit, he'd fucked her in front of the entire Orleasian court! The memory of stumbling back to her rooms his fingers biting into her flesh, tearing her dress. His eyes flew to the ruined garment crumpled on the floor. His fist in her hair, on her knees, his hands about her throat, Halla, Dread Wolf, the way he...fuck! 

"Solas..." he turned his gaze from her unable to meet her stare. Guilt and shame washed over him in waves, threatening to drown him. She brought her hand to his cheek and he flinch away from her touch. 

"Vhenan, I am sorry.” But the words were hollow, like ashes in his mouth. He'd laid hands on her, no matter it was in throes of passion, and no matter it was consensual. He had lost control, and this is what happened.

"Solas...it’s alright" She was frowning when his gaze met hers, brow marred with concern, for him. When her body was marred with marks made by his own bare hands. It made him sick to his stomach. He shook his head, shaking her off, ignoring the flash of hurt across her features. 

“These, are not alright Vhenan, what I...no...this is anything but alright." He shuffled closer, tentatively drawing the covers from her.

"Solas, you didn't mean it" His hands hovered a few centimetres from her bruises, a soft, greenish glow emanated from his fingertips, wispy tendrils healing the purpled flesh.

“That does not excuse it. You have returned from the battlefield with fewer injuries. One night of me, unrestrained in your bed..." His words were left hanging as he finished healing the last bruise.

“Would it help to know I loved every second of uncontrolled Solas?" He pressed his lips into a thin line, a small part of him leapt at the thought that she could accept his darkness, but he pushed it down deep where it belonged. He was not that man anymore.

"No." Solas slid from the bed, stepping over the torn dress and slipped his trousers on. He could feel her eyes on him, though she remained silent and he was thankful. She knew enough of him to know that words wouldn't sooth him and she made no move to stop him when he reached for the door.

"Solas?" He hesitated, his hand hovering above the door, but he didn't turn around. 

"I know you think there's something to be ashamed of here, but I'm not sorry." He heard her slip from the bed, she came to his side and he hung his head. Her hand rested softly on his shoulders and he forced himself not to flinch from her touch again. 

“I love you, Solas." He didn't reply, only nodded and left from the room. 

He didn't deserve her, not even a little.


End file.
